Frère Jacques, Dormez Vous?
by Chibi-Chichan
Summary: John Winchester does not sleep at night anymore. “Daddy, I think there’s a monster in my closet…” No, he doesn’t sleep at night anymore. [FINALLY UPDATED!]
1. Dean's Monster Problem

Frère Jacques, Dormez Vous: Brother John, Are You Sleeping?

John Winchester does not sleep at night anymore. "Daddy, I think there's a monster in my closet…" No, he doesn't sleep at night anymore. :Set after mother's death:

...

Chapter One: Dean's Monster Problem

This past week I have not been able to rest. Every time I lie down o my bed, I see the ceiling and imagine my wife looking down at me, stomach bleeding and fire erupting around her. I know that whatever killed her was not human. No human could place her on a ceiling and set fire to her before my very eyes.

As I thought this very thing on a Friday night, sitting in front of the computer busy researching, my five-year old son, Dean, came rushing down the stairs, a teddy bear in his arms which he unconsciously squeezed very tightly.

"What's wrong Dean?" I asked as soon as I turned to him, my mind alert.

For a moment, Dean hesitated, choosing instead to suck his thumb nervously. Then, he removed his thumb from his mouth and said, "Daddy, I think there's a monster in my closet."

The very words he said turned my blood cold. Opening up one of the computer desk's drawers, I picked out what I needed. Dean looked at the object in my hand, eyes-wide and thumb slowly creeping to his mouth. I would have to teach him not to suck his thumb. I shuddered for Dean had only taken the hobby up after his mother had died.

Without hesitation, I gestured for Dean to follow me as I lead the way up the stairs to his room. I saw the one closet in Dean's room and quickly turned to Dean. "Now, you must never run away from your fears once you're old enough. Always face your fears." I explained.

Dean looked at me quizzically. "When am I old enough?" he asked.

"When you're seven. Understood? Then, I want you to do what I'm about to do." Dean nodded his little head, thought his eyes said that he did not quite understand. I turned back to the closet and repeatedly shot at it, alarming Dean and waking Sam, his younger brother whom he shared a room with—because I wanted my family to stay close together and had bought an apartment because of my continuous growing fear of the supernatural and the abnormal.

Sam wailed when I had shot the closet for the fifth time. I did not stop until I had shot seven bullets which was when I finally felt satisfied. I looked over at the wide-eyed son of mine who had sucked his thumb that entire time.

I sighed, slightly agitated. "Dean, don't suck your thumb." I ordered, frowning down at him.

"Why?"

Children's minds are too inquisitive. Yet if we, as adults, don't answer their inquisitive minds, they would grow to be ignorant people. "Because your thumb carries bacteria."

"Bactria?"

"No, bac-ter-i-a. It's these really small animals that you can't see that try to get inside your body to make you very sick." I explained as simply as possible.

Dean quickly withdrew his thumb from his mouth, glaring at it accusingly and also shrinking away from it in fear. "Is daddy going to shoot my thumb off too?" Dean asked still glancing nervously at his thumb.

I laughed loudly, realising I hadn't been able to laugh for the past week. Clapping my son on the shoulder, I laughed again and said, "No son. That's not my job. But you're lucky you know." I chuckled, watching Dean frown as if he truly wanted his 'animal'-infested thumb to be blown off.

Walking over to Sam's crib, I attempted to hush him, wanting him to fall asleep. It was in that moment where Sam's breathing was finally evened that my heart picked up speed and my stomach knotted. I could no longer feel Dean's presence in the room. I spun around.

Dean was no longer behind me.

...

_Could someone tell me if the mother has brown or blue eyes 'cause I really don't remember. So please remember to review people!_


	2. It's me, Mary, remember baby?

Frère Jacques, Dormez Vous: Brother John, Are You Sleeping?

John Winchester does not sleep at night anymore. "Daddy, I think there's a monster in my closet…" No, he doesn't sleep at night anymore. :Set after mother's death:

A/N: Thank you to the following reviewers!

**klutzy-kay:** So you like the title? I'd have to agree with you there, I was laughing my head off when it was saying: "Are you sleeping, brother John?" because I was searching for the right title for this story and was surprised to find my French teacher knew one. Yeah, I think the bacteria part was cute also! Yeah, I have trouble remembering the mother's eyes. I keep thinking that they're brown but I keep remembering she has blonde hair and so I start to think her eyes are blue...ah well, thank you anyways.

**Ghostwriter:** Thank you and I keep thinking she has brown eyes too. Huh? The flip side? Well, you're going to have to tell me what that means. Yes, my life is so sad that I can't bother to figure out what your saying means. :Laughs:

**:** You reckon it's creepy? Well, I'm trying to make that effect because the second genre is Horror so I hope I can do it... :sweat-drops: Hmm, you reckon blue eyes too? I couldn't be sure either. Thank you for your review!

**Atemu's Lover:** Hey, what's up? It's good to see a familiar name here! Heheh...so if she was a blonde, she has to be blue-eyed? I'm not so sure about that... :laughs: Thank you, and I'll er..._try_ to make the chapters longer...I hope they do gradually become longer... :sweat-drops:

**aniki19:** Yeah, I totally agree! A cute vulnerable Dean is schweet! Though I heard on one of the episodes that he was a "goofy looking" kid. :Laughs: I died laughing when I heard that! Yeah, he was definitely cute...as all kids should be. They shouldn't be spoiled brats or that would ruin the effect of it all! Thanks for your review!

**ashlyns:** Thank you, I enjoyed the animal on the finger part too and of course thinking that blasting it off would be better. :Laughs: Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Saynt Jimmy:** Heheh, lucky it's not a one-shot, eh:Sweat-drops: Anyways, there could be and there might not be. Thank you for your review.

:Falls on head: THANK YOU KIND REVIEWERS! I have concluded that Mary had blue eyes. My intuition is telling me so. :Laughs: Now, enjoy chapter two!

...

**Chapter Two: "It's me, Mary, remember baby?"**

I dashed out of the room as fast as I can, almost stumbling down the stairs in my hurry. "Dean! DEAN!" I shouted out as soon as I reached the bottom, slightly out of breath. Fear and horror gripped at my heart as I stepped forwards into the living room. But all this vanished as soon as I found Dean, still sucking his thumb and watching a blank TV screen. Sighing in relief, I took a small step forward. "Dean, you scared me! What were you-"

Dean turned slightly to me, his face hidden in the darkness and he raised his finger to his lips and made an echoing "shush" sound. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. That's when I noticed the flickering light-bulb and the computer that I had left on, it's light flickering in the same rhythm as the light-bulb. Something was not right.

"D-Dean?" I stammered. There was no reply for Dean continued to stare at the blank screen. Something definitely wasn't right.

Then, I heard faint footsteps from upstairs. "Daddy...daddy?" Dean's familiar voice called out in the background as I watched the Dean in front of me slowly turn to me. For the second time in the night, my blood ran cold. I tried to tighten my grip on my gun when I realised that I no longer held it. I glanced around myself quickly, sweat trickling down the back of my neck when I realised that I must have put the gun back down in Sam's crib.

There was a lump in my throat when the Dean in front of me was finally facing me, his face half covered in the darkness and his other side occasionally seen in the flickering light. I could scarcely speak my next words, my voice scratchy as I forced it out. "Your kind hurt Mary, but I won't let you hurt Sammy or Dean." I said, my voice not as brave as I wanted it to be. I swallowed thickly as 'Dean' rose to his feet, a smile on his face. Although he was not even half my size, I could feel the demonic energy radiating off of him. I tried hard not to flinch as he stepped towards me, face deforming slowly, body growing at the same time. His features seemed like wax and I could feel the dinner in my stomach jump up violently to my throat, giving me the strange urge to turn away and vomit.

But I could not tear my eyes away as the waxy skin moulded itself into a familiar figure. She was stepping towards me, that familiar smile on her face and her blue eyes glittering. "But it is me John, it's me Mary, remember baby?" she asked as she came to a stop in front of me.

My whole body was trembling and my palms were sweating as I stared at my wife. I could not believe my eyes. Was it really Mary standing in front of me? Was she really alive? A part of me told me that it was all a lie, but the part of me that had not been driven insane the past week wanted to believe this and that side was slowly taking over me. Mary...she was really in front of me. She had come to help me gain back my sanity and care for her two boys.

"Remember when I gave birth to Sam, John? He was such trouble. Such complications...they never thought I would make it. The doctors said I was doomed after they cut me open. I was bleeding heavily, it felt like I really might not make it. But you believed that I would live John. You, standing by my bedside with Dean. I still got the scars and Dean was all wide-eyed when he saw it. Remember that honey? Remember?" Mary asked, laughing joyously.

I could feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. "Yeah, I remember Mary..." I whispered. I was not focusing well, I admit. My eyes were blurring as Mary continued to smile at me. Suddenly I heard it. Something whistle just past my ear.

Suddenly there was a scream of agony that erupted from Mary and she doubled over. Suddenly, there was another gun shot, followed by another and another. The gun continued to fire and my bliss vaporised and I saw this shape-shifter for what it was. I spun around and found Dean, repeatedly pulling the trigger, tears streaming down his young face. Then I watched speechlessly as 'Mary' slumped to the floor, dead. Shock stunned me and for a while I could not find any words.

So I turned to Dean, who was still crying, no more bullets remaining in the gun. He gulped continuously, staring at 'Mary's' dead body on the floor. I walked towards him, bending over and gently wiping the tears off of his face. "Shhh...you did the right thing Dean...it's ok son..." I hushed.

Dean sobbed harder, gasping for air. "I'm s-s-sorry! I-I'm s-sorry daddy! B-but I-I knew it w-wasn't mummy, d-daddy! I kn-knew it w-w-wasn't!" he cried, allowing the gun to drop to the floor.

"How?" I asked softly, cupping his face in my hands as I looked down at him.

"M-mummy always c-c-called my br-br-brother, 'Sammy'," Dean answered, gasping for more air, "and th-that th-thing called S-Sammy, S-S-Sam."

My voice came out as a choked laugh. That was twice in one day, Dean had managed to make me laugh. "True. True Dean, very true." I whispered, rubbing his head and then kissing the top of it.

Then, as if it had suddenly occured to him, Dean pulled away from me and made a mad dash up the stairs to his room.

...

_That's another chapter down...I'll try to update quicker next time..._


	3. Don't worry, I'll protect you Sammy

_I know, I know, I have been a terrible, terrible author for not updating until like...three weeks later or more but life has been hell lately so, yeah I try to do my best of my time...so here's the next installment..._

_..._

Puzzled, I followed him up and found him at Sam's crib, arms around his brother as if he wanted to pull him out. But Dean was not strong enough yet so he simply remained that way, holding onto his little brother.

It was at that moment that it struck me. Two miracle things had happened today. One) I had laughed _twice_. Two) Dean spoke more than one word.

I stared at my son Dean in amazement, my whole body numb. I couldn't believe it. Lately, Dean would not say a word to anyone unless it was Missouri. He could talk to Missouri for hours on end. Yet, I always saw him up early in the morning, in the same position he was now, as if he were guarding Sam from something. Something that I always felt was watching us, hovering over us and mocking me for my futile attempts to figure out Mary's killer.

Dean turned his head to me and asked me quietly, "Daddy, are we going to see Missouri again?"

Shock numbed my body even further, if that's possible. Yet, I knew that Sam and Dean were practically attached to the woman. I forced a smile and nodded.

In return, Dean also flashed a smile. "Can we see her tomorrow?" he asked.

How could I refuse? Missouri was working a miracle with the kids. Damn, I wish my own sons enjoyed my company more than that woman's. No really, I am _not_ jealous. "Sure, Dean. If that's what you want." I replied, continuing to smile down at him.

Dean grinned up at me. I could tell he was thrilled at the thought of seeing Missouri again. "Daddy, do you think I could bring my friend along?" he asked.

I frowned. "Dean, your friend has to stay home, understand?" I said firmly. Honestly, why did he always have to bring his friend along? Sure, I understand he's growing up and all but why did he have to have an imaginary friend? A friend by the name of Mrs. W.

"Please Daddy...she never leaves my side unless it's dark anyways." Dean explained.

I sighed in defeat. I had to give up some time didn't I? I mean, this imaginary friend was just going to be a childhood thing right?

Dean was turning back to his little brother Sammy and he smiled down at him. "Don't worry Sammy. I will always protect you." he vowed seriously and I would have felt an urge to laugh if Mary was here and our lives were normal. But Mary wasn't here. And our life wasn't normal.

...

Sunshine was seeping in through the blinds as Mary sang to a sleeping baby. She had dark circles under her eyes, yet her face was still lit up and joyous. She sang gently to the sleeping baby and enchanted Dean:

"_Stars shining bright above you_

_Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"_

_Bird's singing in the sycamore trees_

_Dream a little dream of me_."

As she ended that verse, she bent and kissed the baby on the forehead and continued to rock him gently. She looked up at Dean and beamed at him. "Make sure you don't forget that song. It'll be important to you one day." she said.

Dean laughed. "Of course mummy! I'll never forget it! You sing pretty mummy! Sing again! Sing again!" he said, clapping his hands together as if in applause. I laughed as Mary tipped her head slightly as if to bow.

"I'll sing another verse but first, we have to name this little baby!" Mary said, smiling at Dean. "And I want you to name him." she added quietly.

Surprised, Dean looked back at me and I smiled at him encouragingly. It had been agreed between Mary and I that Dean would get to name his little brother. Nervous and unsure, Dean got up and stepped towards Mary. "What will I call him?" Dean asked.

Mary leaned over and whispered, "I'll call him whatever you want to call him."

"Well..." began Dean, pausing to think. Then he leaned towards Mary and she turned her ear to him as he whispered, "What should I name him?"

"It's your choice." Mary whispered back.

Dean paused once more in thought. Then he leaned back towards Mary and whispered, "I know, but I don't know what to name him." he admitted honestly. Then he frowned. "Mummy, why is daddy laughing at me?"

I was laughing so hard, tears filled my eyes.

Mary pretended to frown at me. "Because, he's being silly." she said but even she couldn't keep a straight face.

"Mummy, what are we going to name him?" Dean said, raising his voice to be heard over our laughter.

"All right..." Mary leaned forwards and whispered something that even I could not hear yet I watched in amusement as Dean's face lit up at what she said.

He grinned and nodded his head when Mary had leaned back. Then, he turned serious and looked at the baby in Mary's arm and he came right up to his little brother's face and said loudly and firmly, "Your name is Sammy. Sammy Winchester."

In reply, Sammy wailed loudly causing Dean to stamp his foot angrily. "Mummy! Sammy doesn't like his name! He thinks it doesn't suit him! That's why he's crying." Dean complained, continuing to stamp his foot. "He doesn't like the name I gave him." Dean pouted at this and Mary and I laughed.

"Oh Dean, I'm sure he'll grow to love it...just like he'll grow to know you all well." smiled Mary, a muscle in her cheek twitching slightly.

I noticed how she said 'you all' and not 'us all' and I smiled and laughed, "Mary, don't forget he'll get to know you too!"

At that very moment, it was like everything had frozen. I could see the sadness and pain in Mary's eyes at my words and her smile slipped slightly. Yet it seemed like it could not be true for the next second Mary also joined in my laughter, agreeing, "Yes, pardon me!"

_'I understand now...I understand...I-'_

_..._

"Daddy! Daddy!"

I snapped out of my day dream and felt Dean tugging on my sleeve excitedly. Slowly, I realized the dream was slowly slipping away from me at that moment as I watched Missouri get out of her parked car. Immediately, she looked directly up at my window as if she sensed us watching. Dean waved down brightly at Missouri. She waved back. I didn't wave. The woman's power was trustworthy, but I can trust no one at this moment. Once you allowed someone to become close to you...you may lose them forever...

"D-daddy...daddy...why is the room going dark?" gasped little Dean.

My eyes were no longer misted with memory and now I could clearly see that the room was indeed darkening. From afar I heard Sam's wail and watched Dean's horrified expression and Missouri's rushing form from the window. The curtains suddenly pulled roughly closed and the room was engulfed in darkness, filled with baby Sam's screaming.

"Sammy!" shouted Dean, rushing blindly towards the sound of Sam's weeping. "Sammy!"

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Dean! Don't go anywhere without me! I'm going to go find the door to le Missouri in." It was the first thing that came to my head and as soon as it left my mouth I felt stupid. The words themselves sounded idiotic.

"No! Sammy! Where are you?" cried Dean, I could hear his voice slowly breaking as he continued to stumble forward in the darkness. Then, a door to Dean's left creaked open and Sammy's cries intensified. "Sammy!" Dean yelled, dashing into the room and rushing to Sam's crib.

"Dean! No, come back!" I shouted, sweat trickling down my neck. With what I could see, something or someone, was dragging themselves along the floor horizontally, their breathing harsh and ragged and long black hair cloaking the floor it covered. "Dean!" I yelped desperately, running to the door, knowing I would be too late but did not want to be.

Dean turned and noticed the 'thing' crawling towards him and his mouth fell open as if he were about to scream but nothing came out as if someone had pressed the mute button. I could no longer hear Dean's screaming, Sam's sobbing or the eerie figure's uneven breathing and the sound it's body made as it was dragged along the floor. Not because I had suddenly gone deaf, but the very door to the room was slammed closed in my face and I heard the click of the lock on the other side of the door.

"Dean! Sammy!" I yelled, pounding on the door with my closed fist, desperately kicking at it for it to open.

Then, I finally heard it.

Dean's ear-piercing scream.

"Daddy!"

And I felt helpless. I couldn't do a thing as Dean's screams continued.

As I said, if you allowed someone to get close to you...you may lose them forever...

And I feared that would now happen to my two sons...

...

_Well you know the drill...review and tell me what you think and I'll try to update faster..._


	4. Growing Pains

I sucked in a deep breath and turned around, drawing out my gun that I now carried around with me everywhere. Turning back to the door I aimed at the doorknob and shot at it, my nerves now like steel. I kicked the door down and aimed right at the thing that was now holding Dean down onto the floor, it's fingernails piercing into his face, drawing blood. The thing, turned its hideous face to me, it's eyes eightless, yellow face gnawled and uneven, one eye large and the other small and bloodshot. It's mouth sagged and revealed sharp rotten teeth. In truth, anyone would have screamed and ran away but I coldly held up my gun, pointing it at its face.

"Burn in hell." I whispered before lowering my gun to it's heart and shooting it.

The thing screeched in agony, crawling around the room in rapid speed, pausing every now and then to claw at it's face, body, drawing blood onto the floor around it and slicing off its own flesh.

Wide-eyed Dean tried to look away, his face twisted with horror, digust and relief. I kneeled down beside him. "Dean, I want you to look at it." I said quietly. I do not know what made me say it, but all I knew was that I did not want my sons to fear what they would soon encounter and handle themselves. Struggling within himself, Dean turned to the creature which continued to rip itself apart.

Then, abruptly, Dean flung himself at me, tears streaming. "D-daddy!" he sobbed, clinging to me desperately. "D-d-daddy! Make it stop! D-daddy!"

I awoke from my cold state in shock and disgust at what I had said and done. This was my five year old son. I was killing him. Squeezing Dean, I whispered, "I'm sorry, you don't have to look Dean...I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry..." I muttered, rocking back and forth slightly.

I turned to the sound of footsteps as Missouri approached the door. She simply forced a smile. "I'll help Sam to sleep. But first, we need some light in this place." She turned and headed to the blinds, opening them.

Sunlight swept through quickly into the room, almost blinding my eyes that had adjusted to the darkness. Turning to Dean who had stopped crying, I held his arms more firmly looking down at him seriously. "Dean, I want you to promise that you will never _ever_ go against my orders. Do you understand? I don't want you to not follow my orders like that ever again. Understand? Do you understand Dean?" I said roughly, slightly shaking him.

Dean nodded his head vigorously. "I won't go against your orders daddy...never again...never..." Dean cried.

And I trusted what Dean said.

...

-3 years later after 1983-(NORMAL POV - 1986)

"Dean! Dean! Where you going?" little Sam asked as he struggled to catch up to his older brother, huffing in his attempt, his face red from running. His short plump legs could not keep up with Dean's longer and more carved out ones.

"Sammy go away!" growled Dean not bothering to slow down.

"Dean! Where you going?" Sam continued to ask, slowing down because he was tired yet not stopping.

"On a mission." Dean replied continuing to stride forward.

"From daddy?" Sam questioned.

"None of your business!" snapped Dean beginning to jog.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam called trailing behind. "Dean! I'm tired!" he cried falling far behind.

"Good. Go home." Dean shouted over his shoulder.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam wailed as he came to a stop, his brother getting further and further away...

...

Dean didn't come home until late at night and even when he finally did, all he wanted to do was bathe, eat and sleep. He was always like this after Dad had sent him on a hunting mission. Dean was only seven, but he insisted that he be treated like a ten-year old thus should have (in Dad's view) a ten-year old's job. Dad respected that and gave him, jobs like poltergeist hunting.

Sam never liked the sound of guns. He wasn't fast in learning and accepting things surrounding the supernatural like Dean was. While Dean was learning to load a gun with rock salt, Sam was learning to sing and dance, "Bunny. Bunny. Bunny. Hop. Hop. Hop. Can you do Bunny Hop, Dean? Can you, can you?" And besides, Sam hated having to hunt. So whenever there was hunting, he stayed home with a gun that Dad entrusted him with. He once tried to tell Dad that he was only three but he never listened.

So Sam decided that he wouldn't listen to Dad. He always put the gun away in the bathroom drawer (told Dean of course, who called him stupid for doing that) instead of keeping it nearby. Dad scolded him for this. Sam didn't mind. He felt closer to Dean anyway. Dean who had always looked after Sam when he was younger when Dad went hunting alone. Dean who bathed him, clothed him, fed him, tucked him into bed. Even sang him a song about dreaming a little dream when Sam admitted he was scared about the 'bogeyman'.

Yet lately, Dean had been getting more distant with all his missions squeezed in with school and having to look after Sam until 5:30pm came, which was when he went out to hunt.

"Dean..." Sam said as they both got ready for bed.

Dean simply grunted in reply.

Sam continued anyway, pushing their single beds together. Dean sighed wearily at this but did not do anything to push Sam's bed back and instead turned out his light and climbed into bed. Sam followed suit and reached forward and tapped Dean's hand continuously.

Once more, Dean sighed, "Aren't you too old for that?" he asked tiredly.

"We always do this. Please Dean." Sam pleaded.

Dean opened his hand and let Sam hold it.

"Can you sing song Dean? Sing song please? Your voice nice. I like it." Sam said.

"I'm tired Sammy. Can I sing it tomorrow?"

"I'll sing song. _Dream a liddle dream of...of..._what is it of Dean?"

"_Me_. It's _Dream a little dream of me_." Dean sang in perfect tune.

Sam laughed merrily, clapping his hand on their closed hands. "Sing again! Sing again! You sing pretty Dean!" he said in a bubbly way.

Dean's blood ran cold. He was having a strange feeling of deja vu. His hand twitched in Sam's.

"I won't forget that song! Sing again! Sing again!" cried Sam happily, causing Dean's ears to ring.

He could almost hear her voice say, "Make sure you don't forget that song. It'll be important to you one day...one day..."

Dean wrenched his hand out of Sam's and pushed Sam's bed roughly away.

"D-Dean?"

"Shut up and go to sleep." Dean said coldly, turning his back on Sam.

"Dean? D-Dean?"

There was no reply.

"D-Dean?"

Silence.

Sam sniffled but still Dean would not turn. "I'm sc-scared of the dark..."

Still no reply.

"I'm sorry Dean. Goodnight." Sam's little voice whispered into the night.

Dean felt a stab of guilt yet he still did not reply and continued not to face Sam. He never felt more like a jerk in his life. But he couldn't help it. Mum's voice was haunting him and Sam wasn't helping. He couldn't believe what he had come to, he simply just wanted to turn around, pull Sam's bed back and hush his little brother to sleep with mum's favourite song.

But he didn't.

Dean lay awake choosing to ignore the sniffling coming from his younger brother.

...

Dean woke up in the middle of the night. Something had woken him up yet he could not remember what. Then he heard it. A sob.

Sam was crying.

Getting up from his bed, Dean walked towards Sam's bed where he saw Sam's huddled up body. "Sammy? Sammy stop crying." Jerk, Dean told himself. You total jerk, why are you treating him like this? Dean shook his head and tried again, "Sammy, what's wrong?" Much better.

Sam turned over to look at Dean. "I-I s-saw something. I-I think I wet my bed."

"Come. You need a bath." Dean said automatically. He led Sam to the bathroom and filled the tub, urging Sam in. After that he made a move to leave and Sam almost screamed.

"D-don't leave m-me! The thing might come again!" he cried out.

"Okay, calm down." Dean muttered. "I won't leave you. Now, what did you see Sammy?" he asked calmly as if they were discussing the weather.

Sam's eyes were wide. "You can see it yourself." he replied in a small voice.

"What? What do you-" Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

The bathroom light flickered on and off and instinctively, remembering what Sam had told him, Dean grabbed the gun from the drawer beside him. He turned back to Sam who was looking behind him, eyes wide in horror just as the light went out.

"There she is." Sam whispered into the stillness of the air.

...

_Well, as the sucky authoress I will try my best to complete my duty and update more faster next time... -;; sigh. So ya'll know the drill. Review kind people._


	5. Where's Sam?

_I'm horrible...I realised that ages ago...I haven't updated in two months...so I wrote this in hopes of updating..._

_..._

The darkness engulfed them both and Dean heard a slight splash come from the tub and goosebumps appeared on his right arm. "Sammy?" Dean called, his voice trembling slightly.

There was no reply.

Dean reached forward to his brother, reached out to grab hold of him, to at least know he was there and too scared to speak, at least know that he could get rid of whatever it was and protect his brother. But all Dean grabbed at was air and in a rush, that air attacked him and flung him against the bathroom wall.

"Sammy!" Dean cried in a weak voice as he slid to the bathroom fall, pain shooting throughout his body. "Sammy!" he called out in a stronger voice.

Still there was no reply and Dean could feel his stomach tightening, close to giving him a cramp. He pointed his gun in front of him and pushed himself awkwardly up, almost slipping in the bathtub. He managed to stagger out of the bathtub, gun still pointed forwards.

"Sammy!" he tried again, his voice louder than before. He heard a muffled cry from behind the bathroom door. He couldn't make out who or what had made the sound or even what had been said, yet he stepped cautiously forward, one hand pointing the gun, the other feeling for the exit. Once he caught hold of the handle he turned it slowly, gun poised at the opening of the door as a precaution. He swung the door open but only found himself meeting darkness.

Suddenly, he was blown back and smashed into the back wall of the bathroom, where he slipped down to the tiled floor, feeling numb all over. He felt something warm trickle down the back of his neck and didn't even bother to reach his hand out of confirm if it was blood or not. All he knew was that his little brother was nowhere to be seen and it was all his fault. He felt like a failure...

...and so this was the punishment that he deserved...

A moment later, he zoned back in, having dazed out and here was when he smelt it. Foul. Something so awful-so foul that it smelt like dead, rotting carcasses. Dean barely managed to cough as he choked on the heavy smell. He suddenly realised that the smell was becoming stronger which only meant one thing. The thing was coming closer to him.

Dean attempted to move his arm, but even his finger wouldn't twitch.

_'I'm paralysed!'_ his voice screamed in his head. _'I'm paralysed and I'm going to die! I'm going to die and I couldn't save Sammy! I couldn't save him!' _Dean's voice screamed silently as he desperately tried to move even just a finger. Yet, he knew now was the end. He shut his eyes tight, waiting for death...

...a gunshot.

...he heard a gunshot instead.

Even with his eyes closed, he could tell the lights had come back on.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing?" shouted a familiar voice.

Dean winced at the sound of anger in his father's voice. He opened his eyes slowly to meet his dad's furious face. He noted that he still held the smoking gun, meaning he had been the one who had shot the...

...he glanced down at the dead, rotting human corpse on the floor and wrinkled his nose in disgust. A zombie? He was losing against a _pathetic_ zombie? But that couldn't be it...there was something else that had interfered with the electricity...something else that had knocked him against the wall...

"Dean!" John's angry voice interrupted him in his thoughts. "That was utterly pathetic! You can't even defeat a zombie? What is wrong with you? Even poltergeist are harder than zombies! Are you telling me that you don't want to fight anymore? You want to wait 'til you're older and less pathetic to fight? Is that what you want Dean? Because if it isn't, it sure as hell looks like it."

Dean hated it when his dad lectured him. He hated to disappoint his dad and receive those harsh lectures. "I'm sorry...I just didn't know what to do...I kind of freaked and because-(Dean hated admitting his weaknesses) because of that I was sort of paralysed in fear and I-"

"You DIDN'T know what to do?" John repeated in an exasperated tone, throwing his hands up in the air. "What have I been teaching you all this time Dean? What have I..." John froze in mid-sentence. He put his hands back down and looked around the bathroom.

Watching him with a puzzled look, Dean raised an eyebrow, wondering what his dad was looking for.

"Dean...where's Sam?"

In a flash, Dean was at his feet and dashing out of the bathroom, trying to ignore the flickering of the bathroom light and the racing of his heart.

...

_Apologies...please review..._


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